Where and When it Matters
by Vaguely
Summary: You can kiss a hundred people and it may never feel right.


**Title**: Where and When it Matters  
**Notes**: My first ficlet in about...eh, maybe a year or so. Unbeta-d except by my own wee head.

--- 

It was James he called but Remus who came, hair impeccable and tie properly snug, looking more like he was off to a prefect meeting and not rescuing his drunken friend. 

"Where's James?" Sirius said the moment Remus came into view. Remus raised an eyebrow and crouched next to Sirius. 

"He's indisposed." Tucking his hands under Sirius' arms, Remus carefully lifted his friend back to sitting, and then with another heave and an encouraging tone he managed to get Sirius standing. The Hog's Head bartender barely batted an eye, indicating that drunken underage boys were rather commonplace. 

Remus realized it was more likely that it was a drunken Sirius that was commonplace. Especially as of late, which might have been why, when Sirius' face floated into James' mirror, James agreed to come and then turned puppy eyes onto Remus, knowing full well that while his puppy eyes were no where near as pitiful as Sirius, who could actually have puppy eyes, Remus was a sucker for friends and favors. And that was why he was dragging Sirius from the pub as Sirius waved goodbye to the other regulars. 

"Farewell!" he called to a suspicious looking woman in red sitting at a corner table. "Remember me always by the sand in your heart!" 

"What are you _talking_ about?" 

"Where's James?" Sirius asked again, his words slightly blurred. "Why did _you_ come?" 

Remus stepped back, a little stung. "I came because James asked me to, because this is the _third time this week_, Sirius, that someone is dragging your soggy arse from some backwoods pub. At least this time it was in the village and not near Muggles." He was sorely, sorely tempted to leave Sirius standing there, looking disappointed and a little belligerent, but Sirius swayed some and Remus was deaf to whatever protest his sensible side raised. 

He slipped an arm around Sirius' shoulders and put an hand at his friend's elbow, accepting the weight Sirius instantly leaned on him, guiding him through the forest. 

"Why aren't you with her?" said Sirius after minutes of silent walking. His voice was miraculously clear, dripping with anger and resentment. Remus turned his head a little to see Sirius glaring at the dark ground, trying to burn a hole. 

Shifting a little, Remus led Sirius around a tree stump before answering. "She is sleeping, I presume. I don't spend all that much time with her." 

Sputtering a laugh, Sirius said, "Liar. You're with her all the time. You study with her every night." 

"I studied every night before I met her," Remus pointed out rather reasonably. "Now she just happens to be there." 

After a sullen silence, Sirius said roughly, "We'd better stop before I'm sick on your uniform." 

Remus obligingly stopped and let Sirius sit down on a bare spot of ground. Sirius pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead and winced. 

"Too much Old Ogden's?" Remus teased lightly. 

"Do you love her?" asked Sirius, opening one eye. Caught off guard, Remus stared. He'd been seeing the Ravenclaw girl for almost two months. She was pleasant and made him laugh and smelled a little like summer, though not nearly as much as Sirius smelled like fall. 

"Do I what?" 

"Have you kissed her?" 

"Sirius, let's just get you--" 

Sirius pushed off the hand that Remus offered, eyes dark. He looked so pure-blood in that moment; dark and pale and angry. The resemblance to the tall, regal man that Remus had seen once on the platform to Hogwarts, a long time ago it felt, was magnificent. "Just answer the question, Moony. You never lie, but you dodge like hell." 

With a frown, Remus said, "Yes, we've kissed. Now stop being a bastard and let's go, it's getting cold." He rubbed his arms to illustrate and then offered his hand again. "You looked tired." 

"Is she a good kisser?" Sirius continued, ignoring the hand. Remus took it back and shoved it into his pocket, glaring at Sirius to disguise his embarrassed glow, wishing he had worn his robes to protect against the cold because the sweater vest was not doing its job. 

"Do you want to just sit here until you freeze to death?" he asked. "I'm perfectly willing to leave you here." 

"Is she that bad?" Sirius said, grinning with no humor. "This is why James should've come. He tells me this stuff." 

"When is the last time he had any kissing stories to tell, Sirius?" said Remus, a little more forcibly than he intended. 

"If he did, he'd tell me. What are you hiding? I tell you a lot more than you tell me." 

"Because you've got a lot more to tell. And what do you want me to say? I don't have anything to compare her kissing to. I'd choose it over having my neck gnawed through by flobberworms. Good enough for you?" 

"Have you had sex?" 

"Jesus, Sirius. I'm going back to school." Remus set off and heard a fantastic amount of struggle behind him, but he pretended not to hear and continued stomping away, the bite of the cold on his ears worsening his headache. A hand grabbed his shoulder, and then its owner fell over, pulling Remus down with him. 

"So have you or have you not?" Sirius had decided that sprawled across Remus' chest was the best way to continue the conversation, despite the lines of frustration that creased Remus' forehead. 

"No. Now get off me." 

Instead of rolling off, Sirius opted instead to roll onto his back, his hair tickling Remus' nose. There was an empty silence that seemed to stretch for years as Remus held his whole body still beneath Sirius, wary of provoking some sort of gag reflex, fascinated by the way there seemed to still be fall caught in Sirius' hair, tangled and quiet even now in the winter months. 

"I'm a good kisser," Sirius murmured softly. 

"Are you?" Remus asked, not really all that looking forward to another conversation about Sirius' conquests. 

"Fantastic, I've been told. But I don't really like kissing." 

"Rather get right to the business, eh?" 

"No. I don't like kissing because it never feels like I'm supposed to be doing it with anyone. I don't trust people who will kiss me whenever I ask them to. I don't care about sex, anyone can have sex, but kissing people. I don't ever feel right about it." 

This clarity – the meaning, not the words, which have become frayed and dim about the edges as Sirius hovers in the area between sleep and life – is surprising to Remus, and he stays still for a moment more, hanging on the breath Sirius is exhaling. 

"I don't think I'll ever kiss anyone, and have it feel right at all," whispered Sirius before his head sagged to the side. 

Carefully, gently, Remus sat up, easing Sirius until his head was resting on his legs, drifting slowly away to where Remus could no longer be privy to his inner works, where not even James felt safe to tread. Remus felt painfully as if Sirius had led him to the door where no pranks happened, where it was just Sirius and nary a dungbomb in sight. 

Remus' hands were in Sirius' hair as he turned over the lingering sense of belonging that he had felt when Sirius had spoken, and without really thinking, without pausing to consider his actions – something he always did – he leaned over and pressed his lips to Sirius, ignoring the awkward angle and slight pain from leaning over so sharply. 

There was a murmur, a half sound that passed between them, and Remus pulled back while Sirius smiled a little through the haze. 

"Never mind."

fin 


End file.
